Unexpected
by ashion
Summary: Working as a guard on a large historical dig site and bored out of his processor, Ironhide will gain more than just a little perspective on the past and his own future. rated T to be safe
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not mine, never was never will be... wish it was though ;P

Prequel to Upheaval set well before TF 07 and RoTF.

Working as a guard on a large historical dig site and bored out of his processor, Ironhide will gain more than just a little perspective on the past and his own future.

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Speech:

Blah – Normal

::_Blah_:: - Comm link

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With a loud frustrated shunt of heated air through his vents, Ironhide resumes the course he had been patrolling for 4 orns now. He, along with 4 others, has been assigned to this excavation team from the science and historical division of Iacon as guards. The area is considered a dead zone, a good 6 orn hike from his home city of Typer Pax. No mech in his right CPU would come out here without prior surveillance and weapons. It may appear to be a quiet desolate ruin, but there had been reports of some of the Allsparks feral creations stalking the area.

No one knew exactly when they were created or why. The creatures themselves weren't very large or particularly intelligent, having multiple legs and relatively simple segmented bodies. The danger came in the fact they moved in packs and could slip down and hide in cracks in the planets metal surface. If an unfortunate mech stumbled across one and was unarmed, his chances of getting out a live were slim. Attacking in groups of up to 20, they would swam the unfortunate victim in a matter of kliks, punching through armor and cutting cables and vital lines with sharp beaks and pincers. Mainly after energon and coolant, they could effectively drain a mech in a matter of a breem or two, leaving the spark and processor starved of energy. Death would be relatively quick but agonizingly painful.

His job is to make sure the scientists are well guarded from dangers outside the simple threat of a cave in. The area already proved to be incredibly unstable. They had experienced one near miss last orn, when a small area near where they were excavating had collapsed.

Surveying the area in wide arcing sweeps he notes how unnervingly silent it is. The site supposedly dates to just before the great cataclysm when most of Cybertrons historical records stop, or at least that's what the scientists tell him. He'd heard the stories of the original Prime's of a great war concerning the Allspark and the massacre that saw the 13 spark-split children of the great Prime's wiped out along with ¾ of Cybertons population. Very little factual information had been gathered thus far to thoroughly prove or disprove these stories. To Ironhide they were just that. Stories. Fanciful little tales told to hatchlings and younglings by their guardians.

His canons twitch and roll a few times with audible clicks and whirs. Internal mechanisms flick and whine with the itch to shoot something. Anything! Just to break this monotonous boredom and suffocating silence. But he has already been warned that the area was volatile. Full of uncharted tunnels and catacombs that could easily cause a massive ground collapse or explosion if disturbed.

Seeing the same dull, rotting structure over and over is driving his CPU up the proverbial wall. He is a military mech. Not a slagging guard to a bunch of pathetic, thin plated science nuts! Another irritated huff slips from the dark mech as he rolls and stretches each shoulder, gears and cables audibly popping and creaking.

:: _Hardtop to Ironhide._ ::

:: _Ironhide here. There a problem?_ ::

He can't help the little spike of excitement. He might finally have something to do!

:: _Just had a minor tunnel collapse. One the old historians, Theta Trion, is trapped, but he says he's fine. Almost have him out already, a joor at most. Got a report from Raze, he says there has been some audible rumbling and level 2 ground tremors in his area to the south. You got anything?_ ::

Sweeping the surrounding area for any vibrations or movement he is about to report back when a thunderous rumble causes the ground to shudder violently. Stumbling back, Ironhide fights to keep his balance as a part of the rotted ruins splits open. Spreading his arms for balance he quickly backs away to hopefully more solid ground. Through the thundering clamor he can hear Hardtop yelling through the comm. line.

:: _Ironhide. Ironhide! Report!_ ::

:: _Keep ya skid plate on. I'm fine! Level 4 tremor in the west sector. _::

Sweeping the area again he finds the structure in front of him has developed large cracks and has sunken a few inches into the ground. The sensors in his feet and legs continue to pick up minor rolling vibrations.

:: _Hardtop, I'm still registering deep vibrations. This place is threatenin' to collapse and I don't wanna be here when it does. I'm moving out back to the main site._ ::

:: _Right, you're clear to move. I've forwarded to Striker and Raze your movements. They're coming in too. We will discuss the continuation of this expedition once all are accounted for. Hardtop, out._ ::

Shutting off the comm. link Ironhide scrutinized the area one last time, plotting a course that will skirt the worst of the structure on his way back to the main camp. An unusual scrapping noise in the relatively quiet stops him mid step. Cannons shifting to stand-by he holds his position and scans the area, nasal plating twitching, sampling the thin air for the tell tale signs of ferals. His sensors are met with a reading that leaves his CPU reeling. It isn't the distinct acrid scent of rotted energon and burnt coolant one associates with ferals, but something else. Tuning his audios more sharply he listens intently for movement, body primed and ready for an attack or the need to run should the ground giveaway. A sudden dull tap against his lower leg armor sees him spinning around cannons pointed down ready to fire… only to freeze in place. There at his feet, standing on long thin legs, arms clutched tightly to its delicate, shivering frame was a hatchling. The nutrient gel from its pod is still clinging to its thin plating, wide golden optics staring up at him with open curiosity.

All the dark mech can do is dumbly stare back, his processor nearly locking up at the sight. A newly born, fully sparked hatchling, out here in the middle of nowhere and it was gazing up at him. Of course he had seen hatchlings before, usually when they were at least 10 orns old when their shells had fully hardened, but never had he seen one this young. Resetting his optics a few times while his CPU righted itself he tucked his canons away. Watching carefully as the little things bright optics track the movement as the canon parts split, fold and shift into their holding areas. Once out of sight its attention quickly turns back to his glowing blue optics, intently watching almost seeming to be searching for something.

His vocalizer flicks and resets a few times before the words finally emerge.

"Ah…err…Hello there little one. Where did… what are you doing out here?"

Ironhide immediately wants to smack his head into a wall for his stupidity. It was a hatchling, it couldn't answer him. Chances are it barely understood what he was saying to begin with. The question of where it had come from was obvious. A glancing sweep of the area revealed small patches of depleted nutrient gel mixed with spots of energon leading away from a small gap that had opened in a sunken wall close by. What it was doing out here, in a section abandoned some vorns before even he himself was even sparked, was another matter entirely.

Leaning down a little for a better look he abruptly reels back as the little hatchling emits a small whimpering churr. Its golden optics dimming to a muddy yellow, as its knees suddenly buckle. Faster than most would have thought the bulky mech capable, he drips down large hands sweeping out to catch the fragile body before it hits the ground. An instinct he didn't know he even possessed, driving him to lift and hold the light frame close against his chassis.

He almost drops the hatchling when a sharp shriek peels from its vocalizer, body writhing and flailing in his firm grasp. Ridged with spark wrenching fear, processor screaming his grip lightens as he stares wide opticed down at the small form. Has he hurt it? Did he grip it too hard? To his mild relief the cries and thrashing swiftly stop as his grip lessens, vents hiccupping out stuttered whimpers. Flaring his energy field he swaths the others reeling field with soothing calm and reassurance.

Taking a moment to scan the over the hatchling, he finds himself mentally cursing. Its thin, blue grey plating is covered in scratches and small dents. One arm clutched defensively to its body is partially dislocated at the shoulder joint and elbow joints, the plating bent and slightly twisted out of place. It brings him some relief to see he could not have caused an injury such as this, but his spark constricts at seeing something so young in pain. With a soft whimpered churr, it wriggles around curling into the warmth of his broad chassis before quickly slipping into recharge. Staring dumbfounded for a moment the tension in his body slowly slips away, cables relaxing and hydraulics hissing with release. A small smile twitches at the mech's face plate as he adjusts his grip, shifting the hatchling to rest more securely in the crook of his arm.

His status as a warrior class, massive canons and abrasive personality see him with few others he can honestly call friend and even fewer who want to be within his energy field range. The fact this little creature, newly born, in pain and so terrible vulnerable and frail is trusting enough to fall into recharge in his grip sent a strange flicker through the mech's battle driven CPU. Shaking himself he gathered his scattered wits, logic and tactical programming coming to the fore. He needed to get the hatchling to a medic quickly as possible. He had no training in dealing with new born hatchling, thus didn't know if its behavior or the weak energy field were normal. Locking his arm securely in place, he sets off. Wide feet pound the brittle ground as he runs back to the main camp, pushing his lumbering body to its limits.

TBC

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Unbetaed so if you find any glaring mistakes don't hesitate to point them out. Oh and R & R appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

_THANK YOU to everyone who's reviewed this thus far. I'm glad you're all enjoying reading it as much as I am writing._

_BIG thank you to cai-ann for the beta._

_This one's quite a bit longer than the first… they just had to keep waffling on! _

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Ironhide barely manages to contain the grin that wants to break out across his face plates. The looks on their face plates are going to be engrained in his memory cores for a long time to come. Complete and utter shock and bewilderment radiates from each mech in palatable waves, all optics locked on the curled form resting in the crook of his arm.

He couldn't help but take particularly smug delight in striking the normally loud mouthed flyer, Livewire, silent. In all the vorns he'd worked with the tawny coloured flyer the mech was never short of some form of smart aft remark or obtuse comment. Although he was enjoying the little show he knew there were more important things needing to be dealt with. Pushing a loud hiss of hot air from his stress heated chassis, he straightened from his hunched stance.

"If ya all done gawkin' like a buncha slack jawed drones I need some help here. Yes it's a hatchling. Yes I sort of know where I came from. No I dunno what its doing out here or why and right now I don't care. The little thing is damaged and in pain. Any of ya got any decent level medical trainin'?"

Knowing full well his team only had the same basic medical knowledge he did his narrowed focus turns on the 5 scientists and 2 elder historian scholars. A few kliks pass in silence before one of the elder scholars, Alpha Trion, steps forward, blue optics locked on the small form held securely in the black mech's thick arm.

"I believe I have sufficient training to see to the young ones care for now. Although It would be best to bring him to the nearest medical centre as soon as is opportune."

A fine grey hand reaches out, long tapered fingers gently tracing over the markings on the hatchlings head. With a quiet whimper golden optics snap open coming into sharp focus on the elder mech's harsh, angular features. The emerald green and gold mech studies the little one intently, repeated deep scans running over the small frame. He notes its sizing slightly larger than the average hatchling at 6 feet in length, limbs long and slender. The optics are an unusual but not unheard of yellow gold colouration. The plating so thin at the joints and parts of the abdomen it was almost translucent, the soft texture confirming it as having very recent emergence from its pod. All this makes sense and couples as perfectly normal in his processor he receives the readings on the spark. It's larger than normal and feels old and powerful, yet young and unburdened. This and the unusual markings would need to be examined further.

"Ironhide, If I may? I need to begin treating the injuries immediately."

Alpha Trion holds his arms out expectantly, violet optics briefly focusing on Ironhide's glowing with assurance and trust, before slipping down to lock on the hatchling. A broad hand gently runs over the small ones helm as it whines louder and begins to squirm under the others gaze. With a short pause he gently extracting the curled form from the confines of his arm and chassis and placing it into the waiting arms.

Outwardly he appears indifferent, internally he it berating himself. Did he just hesitate? He never hesitates. Such actions are what get mech's killed! He's a warrior class military mech. Armored and trained to fight and kill to protect his home city and planet. He doesn't care, has never cared about hatchlings. Frail, defenseless and horribly dependent little things they are, but all cybertronian's had the base instinct to protect the young and vulnerable. It was just that old instinct rearing its head. That's all. Loud cries break him from his internal deliberation.

Snapping back to himself, scans bursting outward he instantly zeros in on the source. He doesn't need to see the little one to pick up on its pain and rising distress. During his minds wanderings his fellow warriors had moved to flank the scientists and historians on all sides. The excavation team huddled in a half circle around Alpha Trion. The scholar sitting on the rough ground, thin legs folded under him as he struggled to calm the wailing hatchling. He can feel the air buzzing with silent comm. messages and repeated scans as they all watch the elder's ministrations with an unnerving intensity.

"Hush little one. Calm now, it is alright. The worst is done now."

Armor bristling, cables tightening Ironhide pushed forward intent on intervening only to have Theta Trion sinuously slide into his path. Delicate hands press firmly against his wide chest plates an unfamiliar energy field intruding on his projecting calm, concern and good will. Their angular head tilts to look up at him, a small concerned smile gracing their face plates. Ironhide can barely repress the urge punch the smaller in the face. He can feel the ire and aloof distaste towards him curling underneath the patronizing act.

"Calm yourself warrior. Alpha Trion is attending to the young one as best he can. The realigning of joints at any age is painful as I am sure you know."

A deep rolling growl and a warning flash of blue optics see Theta hastily removing his hands from the much larger mech's chest. With a nervous cough he glances away before looking back up at the bulky warrior, shoulders pulling back in a false display of confidence. He can practically scent the fear threatening to bleed into the others field.

"You informed us that the young one was found in the lower western section of the ruins, correct?"

Keeping a few sensors trained on Alpha Trion as he works Ironhide eyes the sapphire blue and gold mech suspiciously. At least the cries had died down to hiccupping whines and whimpers, but his processor was still reeling, body tensed ready to snatch the hatchling away from Alpha at a moments notice.

"Affirmative."

Is the flat, rumbled reply to the query. Seemingly pleased to have the warrior's attention, Theta presses ahead.

"Good, good. By chance, did you take notice of what portion of the ruins the hatchling emerged from? Were there any markings such as glyphs or writing on the ruins?"

With a heavy snort, Ironhide glares down at the slight mech, blunt face plates twisting into a scowl.

"No, can't say I was payin' any particular attention to those kind of things in the situation."

It took a great deal for him to remain civil, feeling the others field spike briefly with irritation and exacerbation. Even though it was mumbled Ironhide still clearly heard the remark.

"Of course… _clueless brute_."

Resolve finally snapping fists tighten with grinding creaks, field raiding rage and indignation, Ironhide looms over the shorter mech.

"What was that?!?!"

A thick wine red arm swings between the two, roughly pulling the dark mech back.

"Enough. Stand down Ironhide. I've already called in an emergency evac they'll be here in 2 joors. We need to start organizing for a fast dust off."

"Yes, the sooner the better Hardtop."

The scholar huffs with a steely glare. Brushing rusted dust from his frame he pivots sharply, stalking back to the others. Waiting till the others back is turned Hardtop roughly pulls Ironhide a few steps aside. Red optics narrowing, large clawed hands clamping down firmly on the darker mech's wide shoulders, Hardtop hisses through his comm. link.

:: _What the frag is wrong with you Ironhide? You never crack it so easy with smart mouthed glitches like that. You better reign in that temper before I send you on a long lonely walk back to Tyger Pax. Got it?_ ::

Red optics bore into blue neither willing to relent. A loud sigh leaves the dark warrior as the other gives him a heavy handed pat on the shoulder plating.

:: _Yeah I know, I know. I got it. I'm sorry alright?_ ::

:: _Good. Besides, he's a little thin plated scholar. It wouldn't do good for your rep._ ::

Giving the other a playful swat across the back of his crested head, Hardtop steps away sharp optics scanning the surrounding area. Following the others lead, Ironhide turns his optics to scanning for the positions of each mech before turning outward to the barren land. Moving to an open space in their defensive circle he feels himself starting to slide back into well worn routine, comm. line open, sensors tracking each member of the group and optics scanning for anomalies.

The evac shuttle would he here soon, the hatchling taken care of and everything will go back to normal. This irritating worry niggling in the back of his processor would finally stop and he could go spend a few joors in the training grounds working off this awful tension in his joints. Subconsciously his fingers curl and uncurl, muscle cables twitching as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. Yes a few hours tearing up the training grounds and shooting up drones sounded good, really good. Squealing cries catch break his line of thought. It's crying again, by Primus what are they doing?

:: _Oh for pits sake 'Hide. Stop procrastinating and go check on it before you break something fretting. You're projecting something fierce and it's giving me a processor ache._ ::

The sudden transmission catches him off guard causing the broad mech to jolt slightly. Irked blue flicks to meet calm red, a small knowing smirk gracing the others long face plates.

:: _I'm NOT frettin'._ ::

Is the heatedly hissed reply, but Ironhide is quick to leave his post. The 5 science mech's have moved off collecting and storing away their equipment leaving Alpha Trion and Theta Trion alone to care for the hatchling. With Theta's help Alpha had managed to get the hatchling to settle enough to finish realigning the joints in the little one's arm and smear a thin coating of repair gel over the scratches and dents. Each pained cry and feeble struggle making his spark twitch. Laying the small body out on his lap he rubbed and pressed a little firmer on the little ones middle and lower back. Normally encouraging a hatchling to purge the left over nutrient gel wasn't so difficult, but this one seemed to be set to fight him the whole way. Theta had already tried only to have the hatchling screech and thrash even more. No amount of cooing or calming pulses of their fields seemed to make a difference.

"Hush little one, this is for your own good. Come now, let it out."

:: _That black warrior approaches. I will send him back to his post._ ::

Glancing up, Alpha Trion spots Ironhide carefully approaching them. His body stiff, optics bright as they flick between the two older mech's and the hatchling.

:: _No, let him be. He won't cause harm._ ::

Hydraulics softly hiss and gears grind as the warrior crouches an arms length away from the scholars, shoulders hunching forward. He eyes the two mech's with barely contained ire before glancing down to the writing tangle of plates and limps in Alpha's lap.

"Is somethin' wrong? All I been hearin' is it screamin' its vocalizer out!"

No sooner do the words pass from the large mech does the small body still in Alpha's grasp. All 3 look down to see the hatchling staring at Ironhide, spindly arms stretching out towards him. When he doesn't respond plaintive whines leave the little one's vocals as its struggles grow stronger. Unconsciously Ironhide reaches out, thick fingers barely bushing over the tiny helm. The whines instantly grow in volume, tiny hands fervently grabbing and tugging at the plating around his hand and wrist. A flash of realization passes unnoticed across the green and gold mech's optics. Sliding a silver hand under the small frame he gently lifts its almost non existent weight. Supporting its back and aft with his other hand he holds the small wriggling body out to Ironhide. Sitting back Ironhide blinks, optics swirling with confusion.

"What are ya…"

"I believe he wants to be held by you. You may have more success calming him that we have thus far."

Giving a reassuring smile Alpha, energy flowing with serenity and encouragement he presses the small form into the large mech's hands.

:: _What are you doing? We do not want it bonding to this lumbering oaf! He is a warrior class. A military mech! It's impossible for him to-_ ::

:: _Enough! I understand your trepidation, but it is clearly far too late for that. Watch._ ::

Optics burning with suppressed rage, Theta follows Alpha's movements as he guides the large warrior into the same sitting position he had previously held. Some shuffling and awkward handling later sees the hatchling lying across the mech wide lap. With Alpha's direction, one large finger lightly presses and rubs small circles into the soft plating of the diminutive back. Where before the little one had thrashed, kicked and cried insistently under their ministrations, it now lay quietly whimpering, face plates scrunched up in discomfort. With a sharp tap to the very middle of the back the hatching gives a gurgling cough, thick grey gel splattering on the ground. Face plates twisting in disgust, Ironhide moves to hand the hatchling back only for Alpha to push it back into his arms. Stunned he sits stiffly as Alpha arranges the now quiet, relaxed form to lay back in the crux of his arm, close to his chassis.

"Ah, much better. Tell me warrior, what do you know of hatchlings?"

Ironhide watches as the Trion carefully, searching his posture and optics for any hint of the mech's intentions. Straightening, optics narrowed he adjusts his grip on the tiny hatchling.

"Bout as much as most."

Gesturing for him to elaborate, the green and gold mech flicks a quick glance back at the other scholar who still sat quietly seething. Still refusing to accept the fact the hatchling was now well out of their reach of further study and investigation.

"They get assigned to a mech after sparking to be collected at birth. They're clingy, noisy and have to be cared for until they reach adulthood."

Smiling lightly the green mech slowly nods, fingers gently tracing the markings on the hatchlings helm.

"Yes, that is all true. The reason they are 'clingy' as you put it, is due to the bond they form with their guardian. Most guardians are specifically chosen for their energy field and spark resonance. The closer the match the more settled the new spark and the faster the bond establishes. The bond is usually formed within the first 1 to 3 joors of birth through physical contact and the mingling of energy fields. Once the bond has formed the hatchling will not generally tolerate being held by another until it is at least a vorn old."

Glancing down as the hatchling twists, turning its body to lie flush against his plating, Ironhide shifts as the information filters through his processor. Despite some behavior that suggested otherwise, he was not a stupid mech by a long shot. Realization dawns on him like a point blank shot from a plasma canon. It all made sense now. Why it had being constantly crying and fighting after he gave it to Alpha Trion, where before it had been so content it had fallen into recharge despite its injuries. It also explained his nerves and field being on edge since he left it. He'd heard of guardian's snapping when separated from their hatchling for extended periods. Processor threatening to freeze for the second time that orn he gazed wide opticed down at the diminutive form, dulled gold optics watching him with weak energy field pressing and mingling with his. Loud grating laughter snapped his processor back into gear.

Head slowly swiveling, optics glowing bright Ironhide spots Livewire, Raze and the largest mech of the guard team, Alloy, a short distance away. All three stumbling over themselves, vents heaving as loud raucous laughter peels from their vocals.

"HA HAA! Grumpy aft Ironhide with a hatchling! His beloved canons finally have a rival for his affections! Ha ha, ah ha…oooh slag…"

Livewire quickly found himself shutting off his vocalizer. One of said beloved canons powered up with a dull whine, the glowing barrel pointed in his direction, a rumbling growl issuing from deep within the mech's chest. A loud irate yell diffuses the situation. Stepping up to Raze and Livewire, Hardtop gives both mech's hard reprimanding cuffs at the back of the head, opting for a sharp kick to the leg plating for the larger Alloy.

"Enough, all of you! Alloy get back to your position. Raze go help the scientist with equipment crates. Livewire, get you aft in the air I want circling patrols of the area until the transport arrives. Guide them to our position when they're in range. Got it? Good. Get moving!"

Turning his gaze onto the seated mech, Hardtop rolled his shoulders, optics briefly flicking to Alpha Trion then the gold optics watching him from the confines of thick plate plates.

:: _You're relieved of duty for now 'Hide just look after the little bitlet, but keep your canons and that slagging tempter stowed. You can take a shot at their smart aft's AFTER we get back._ ::

Huffing a amused snort through his vents, Ironhide just glared good naturedly after Hardtop as the mech meandered back to his post. An inquisitive chirp dawns his attention down to the crook of his arm. Delicate face plates pinched in concern a small hand pats against a broad plate of his chest, optics scanning his face. Running a thick digit over the small stumps jutting from the audials, under its chin and down to the slightly protruding chest, he smiles to himself. He can feel the spark within thrumming strongly.

"Nothin' for ya to worry about little one. Hmm… gonna have to name ya aren't we?"

Perking up, Theta Trion tentatively stepped over to the two seated mech's raising a hand and clearing his vents to get their attention. Ironhide watches the mech with blatant ire and annoyance.

"Ah, well, about that. Earlier when we checked the spark chamber itself I noted small glyphs inside the plates. I suspect this one already has been gifted a name by whom ever created him. The writing was of an old dialect I have not seen in quiet some time –"

The rumbling growl from the black mech sees Theta quickly dropping his explanation.

"Optimus. I believe the glyphs spell the name Optimus."

"Hn….Not bad I guess."

Ironhide muses, watching as the hatchling, Optimus he reminds himself, inquisitive optics rove around properly taking in his surroundings for the first time. Smiling as he watches the little one squirm to get a better view over his guardian's arm, Alpha Trion makes a high click in his throat remembering another detail about hatchlings.

"Ah yes, one more thing Ironhide. Optimus will be needing his first initial intake of energon before the transport arrives. Since we do not have a ready supply here, you will be providing it."

Sharp blue optics snapping up to meet amused violet.

"Ah… what?"

TBC

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_Second chapter done and 3__rd__ on its way. Getting more comfortable with writing these the more I do._

_Been listening to the RoTF soundtrack way too much while writing, specifically fixating on Infinite White. Such a beautiful song I just can't get enough of._


	3. Chapter 3

_After some procrastinating and other stuff I've finally got this one done. _

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Ironhide shifts forward to rest more firmly on his knees, crested head tiled and optics pointedly watching Alpha Trion.

"Ya mind repeatin' that?"

Nodding slowly, the emerald mech gestures towards the hatchling who rests partially concealed by the warrior's thick arm and heavy chassis.

"Optimus will need his first intake of energon within the joor now his systems are clear of the depleted nutrient gel. He will not last until the transport arrives without it. It is abundantly clear that he has bonded to you, due to this his systems will no longer accept it from another."

Ironhide remains still for a moment, sharp optics scanning and scrutinizing the other. Small quiet trills draw his attention down to his arm where the little hatchling has now turned to look over the black skinned plating. Wide gold optics take in the other mech's and desolate surrounds with soft inquisitive clicks and chirrs. Carefully running a large finger down the small back he heaves a vent of atmosphere in a sigh and asks;

"What do I need to do?"

Pleased the Trion enthusiastically points and gestures as he begins his explanation.

"It is rather simple. We disconnect one of your small lesser energon lines from near your main filtering tanks and connect it into Optimus. This will supply him with the energon he needs until he is seen to by a proper medic. You will need to slow the flow as much as possible to not overwhelm him and keep filtering the energon until his own systems take over."

Tentatively Alpha moves in close pleased that the mech is quickly settling into his role. Careful hands guide the unresisting large mech to lift his left arm up, exposing the hydraulics and small armor pieces protecting the vitals within. Sending a silent request the green mech presses tapered fingers to a curved dark plate low on the mech's chest. Tilting to the right, Ironhide flexes the plating allowing it to be lightly pulled open. He can't suppress the full body twitch when those fine digits touch the silvery skin of his now exposed protoform. The touch is disturbingly cold.

:: _My apologies. This may cause some discomfort but should not hurt._ ::

Warming his hands Alpha guides the protoform 'ribs' open finally exposing the mech's heated innards. His small spindly frame allows him to easily slip an arm into the small gap. A combination of sonar pings, scans and highly attuned touch helping him to navigate. Sorting through thick cables, lattice of coolant and lubricant lines and webs of sensitive neural wires he quickly finds the energon line he is seeking. The line itself is only an inch in diameter, but still large in comparison to the small body it will soon be connected to. Utilizing his fine fingers he firmly pinches off the tube where it connects into a much larger arterial line. Waiting a few klicks for the main line to seal off what the body perceives as a break, he sharply twists and snaps the line away then gently extracts the line. Violet optics flicking up to the mech's blunt face plates every few kliks searching for any sign of discomfort. A blissful hum passes through the elder's spark seeing the warrior's attention focused solely on Optimus, the little one happily emitting small trills and clicks as a thick digit smoothes over the fragile back. Compressing and twisting the end of the line to narrow the diameter as much as possible to minimize spillage, Alpha briefly flicks a glance over to Theta.

"Theta, come here please. I will need your assistance with the hatchling."

Shifting to move closer the sapphire and gold mech halts mid step. Icey blue optics glare sidelong at him, seeming to bore through his thin plating.

"Please, Ironhide. I'm afraid your hands are far too large for this task. I need Theta to open the plates of Optimus' abdomen to allow for the line to be connected. It will not harm him. That I promise."

A low growl rumbles deep in the black mech's chest before he relents. Wide hands gently shift the small form from one arm to the other, laying Optimus out along a broad forearm. The small helm swivels to scrutinize one mech then the other before tiling back looking for assurance from his guardian. Delicate little fingers flex anxiously against dense plating. Seeing the blue one moving closer Optimus' whimpers body twisting as he attempts curly up. A large grey hand holds him in place as soothing warmth curls over him easing his rising panic. Using large fingers to carefully hold the hatchling in place, Ironhide gives one sharp nod to the other Trion. Steely optics watching the blue mech's every move.

Moving quickly Theta crouches low, two finger tips splitting open with fine pincers and manipulator tools fanning out. Using these he coaxes the still soft abdominal plates open as gently as possible. Feeling the intrusion the little one's first instinct is to pull away long legs kicking and his good arm flailing, but his attempts are thoroughly thwarted by Ironhide's grip. A loud startled wail splits the thin air as Theta Trion slips the line in and roughly attaches it to a main arterial line.

Ironhide runs his thumb up the side of Optimus' final stumps, down his jaw to barely plated shoulders in a soft circular pattern, as the hatchling cries and struggles. Initially his systems attempt to block the flow of the fluid, perceiving it as an unknown and potentially dangerous. A gurgling retch is their only warning before the hatchling purges the small amount of energon his system has collected. Electric blue energon splatters over already filthy blue grey plates and Ironhide's restraining hand.

"What the frag!?! Is he supposed to do that?"

Normally purging energon was a sign of severe internal damage or that there was a dangerous contamination in the lines. He barely manages to resists the urge to grab the green mech by his skinny neck and shaking them senseless. Instead he shifts his weight off his stiff knees and adjusts his grip on the squirming wailing Optimus. Fumbling with a thigh compartment, Alpha Trion fishes out for a small dull grey rag. He carefully wipes up the worst of spilled energon being mindful of the silver line still tentatively attached in the hatchlings abdomen.

"Calm yourself warrior, give the little one a moment. This is not the normal method for giving a hatchling its first energon intake, but it is all we have available to us. His systems should recognize your signature momentarily."

"WHAT?!!?! You said– "

"I know what I said warrior! This is the best we can do. Please calm yourself, this is not helping. The more agitated you are the longer it will take Optimus to settle."

Reeling in his rage and anxiety, Ironhide carefully pets the small chest with a thumb as Optimus' distressed cries gradually quiet. Systems finally matching the latent spark signature within the energon with the one radiating from the large body of his guardian the internal blocks finally release. Optimus' body having previously been sustained by slowly processing energy from the nutrient gel is overwhelmed by the sudden rich energy source as it forcibly floods through his lines. The new energy blazing through his weak systems sends his developing processor reeling with mild euphoria.

::_ Ironhide, everything alright? _::

:: _It's fine Hardtop. Alpha Trion just did an energon transfer on Optimus and he ain't likin' it too much._ ::

Optimus gradually settles going limp in Ironhide's warm grasp as the large mech does his best to moderate the flow continuing his gentle ministrations over the little chest.

:: _Optimus? As in the hatchling? Ha, so the little bitlet has a name. One of those scholars pull that one outta his aft?_ ::

Watching as the hatchling promptly slips into recharge his continuous scans showing various dormant systems slowly powering online for the first time, Ironhide snorts a dismissive laugh.

:: _Nah, Theta Trion recons it's what's written inside the hatchling's chest plates. Says it's an old language or some slag like that. Smart aft talks too much._ ::

Internally he quietly muses to himself how ridiculous he must look fussing over a hatchling, not to mention that by now his reputation amongst his fellow warriors is utterly shot to slag. Knowing Alloy and Livewire those mech's will have already made an attempt to send some form of message or data packet to the nearest guard post in Tyger Pax.

Patiently stepping back and waiting for the hatchlings energon levels to reach optimal, Alpha Trion neatly folds the soiled rag and slips it back into the narrow compartment in his thigh. Glancing over an ornate shoulder the emerald green mech sends a questioning ping through the other Trion's comm. line.

:: _This is on your head Alpha. I have done as asked, but I will not be dragged into this debacle any further by you. Know that I will be putting in a protest against this to the council when we reach Tyger Pax._ ::

The sapphire blue Trion regards the other with the barest fleeting look before shutting off the comm. link signal of the other Trion. Picking himself up and dusting off lingering rust powder, Theta curtly nods to Alpha Trion, pointedly ignoring Ironhide, before hastily stalking off to join with the mech's of the science team.

"That… that ain't gonna happen again is it? The purgin' I mean?"

Starting Alpha quickly looks to the large mech, seeing his form hunched, optics averted.

He'd never admit it, but the scene earlier had made his spark twist in its casing. He'd seen mech's purge before. In one of those cases the mech died from massive internal bleeding after a very simple, but very stupid sparing accident.

The mech had been sparing with a friend who far out classed him in not only size but sheer weight and skill. A stumbled counter saw the larger strike the smaller with more force than intended. Soon after the mech missed his shift and Ironhide was sent to collect him from the main barracks where he had been last seen after the incident. The sight he found in the mech's quarters still chills him all these vorns later. On the floor in a splattered pool of energon and coolant lay the young mech. Body curled in on himself arms clamped tightly around his damaged abdomen, quaking with violent spasms as glowing energon and clear coolant gushed from his mouth in another brutal purge. In a panic he sent out an emergency message for help, gathering the mech in his arms and running as fast as he could to the nearest med bay. He was notified later that orn that the mech's spark had guttered out despite the medics best efforts. An autopsy found the mech had shut off most of his pain receptors within the abdominal zone. In the end this error cost him his life. It was confirmed the mech had cracked one of his main energon pumps and damaged several energon and coolant lines, injuries that would have been easily repaired. Instead the lines split, mingling the energon with the coolant creating a violate mix that seeped into the pump and poisoned him. Put simply in Ironhide's mind the mech had died through his own stupidity, but it was still something he never wanted to witness again.

Alpha blinks, violet optics watching the large mech carefully noting the slight brightening of the blue optics as they flick back to him.

"No, no it should not happen again. It was caused by his body's natural reaction to what it perceived as a foreign and potentially dangerous fluid. Ah, good his levels are optimal now, we can remove the line."

Crouching down under Ironhide's watchful optics, Alpha moves slowly and very carefully in removing the energon line. Nimble finger tips split and fan open with fine tools similar to Theta's, before dipping into the small opening in the slumbering hatchlings abdomen. Pinching off the thin tube where it had been forcibly connected to an arterial line, he waits for Optimus' now fully functional repair systems to seal the breach. Running continuous scans over the small body Alpha very carefully he extracts the line pinching the end shut with fine pincer tools. Optimus' only response is a slight jerk of his limbs and a brief stutter of his system. Carefully placing the line back within the large mech's frame, allowing his repair systems to gradually pull the line back into place, he assists in shutting the inner and outer plates before gently doing the same with the hatchling.

Resting back on his haunches, old hydraulics softly hissing in the back of his legs, hands resting flat against thigh plating the slender scholar looks over the heavy frame of the much larger warrior with a sharp scrutinizing gaze. He watches the mech for a full breem before speaking, harmonics flat and direct allowing no form of misunderstanding.

"I will be blunt with you warrior. Your type was never suited for the role of guardian. You are bred to be strong in body, thick plated, tactical minded and brutishly violent. You are simply the last type of mech I would ever allow to be guardian to such a vulnerable and impressionable hatchling."

Icy blue optics lock with violet, black armor plates subtly tightening. The large mech hunches forwards, crested head lowered, his left arm slowly shifting to tuck the limp body of the recharging hatchling securely against heavy chest plates. Calmly raising a placating hand, Alpha Trion continues.

"However… You have demonstrated a capacity for compassion, self control and shown you can curb your more violent tendencies in his presence."

Gesturing to the almost completely hidden form of Optimus tucked firmly under protruding armor layers.

"I must commend you for this. I honestly never expected for you to settle into this role so well. But know this…I am giving you fair warning Ironhide, so please listen and listen well."

Sitting back, watching as the mech gradually settles Alpha continues, tone more quiet and understanding.

"There will be questions to be answered by all here this orn, but you will be singled out for the most pressing of these. Many you will find unpleasant and intrusive and you will have your character and profession thoroughly dissected. Keeping a level head and a reign on your tempter will be of the upmost importance for yourself and Optimus during this time. It will be difficult for you, I know. I have been a guardian under strained circumstances myself once before. I understand what you may be about to face and… I would like to assist you in this however I can… if you will allow it…"

Ironhide critically assesses the small scholar, optics roving over his form, noting how he held himself, his facial expression and the emotions swirling in his energy field. He is a mech who finds trusting others difficult in the best of circumstances and these were far from the best or the most normal of circumstances. The mech had helped him a great deal this orn and he understands what the older mech is offering, but also knows it is a decision he cannot take lightly. There is another besides himself he must take into account in this. One who cannot yet voice his opinion on the matter. Rolling back onto his feet and pushing his heavy form up to standing, he looks down at the smaller mech, body and facial plating betraying nothing.

"I'll think on it."

That said, the large mech turns and stalks off, leaving the smaller to stare after him in disappointment. He makes a point to stay within the small area his team mates have set as their guard perimeter, but still keeps his distance from them.

It was all hitting home now. He thought he'd had a relatively good grasp on what would be coming before, but now he wasn't so sure. Could he honestly do this? Could he be a good enough guardian for this hatchling? Can he handle the questioning Alpha Trion warned him about? What about the questions of where the hatchling came from and his age? Optimus has been born a full vorn after the last hatchling birth cycle. Was the Trion right, that he was the wrong type of mech for this? Would it be better for the both of them if he found a way to sever the bond and give Optimus to a proper guardian? Or would it just be the easy way out?

All these questions and more boil through his over active processor as he absent mindedly runs blunt rough fingers gently over the warm little body cradled in his arm. Optimus wriggles as he begins to surface from recharge, disturbed by the torrid of emotions rolling through Ironhide's energy field. He smothers the turmoil by pushing warmth and reassurance though his energy as he looks down at the fragile form shifting to press his head again Ironhide's side. Delicate little hands rub against armor plates, in an eerily similar pattern to Ironhide's own careful petting, as recharge slowly reclaims the hatchling. If he didn't know better he'd swear the little one was trying to comfort him.

Stopping in his aimless wandering, he tilts his head back optics staring up at the dark sky, watching one of Cybertons 2 moons as it lazily follows its gravitational path, his raging processor finally slowing. This has been an orn he can't forget and this is a decision he will never regret. A genuine smile breaks across the mech's harsh features as he slowly tilts his head back down to regard the hatchling in his arm.

"We'll guess we're stuck with each other kid."

:: _Livewire to team. Emergency evac transport ETA one joor. They request all parties to be gathered at these coordinates for fast pick up and dust off._ ::

Stealing himself, the large warrior slowly makes his way back to the main camp. What ever was coming he'd be ready for it… with some help.

:: _Ironhide to Alpha Trion._ ::

:: _Yes, Ironhide?_ ::

Came the stunned yet hopeful response.

:: _Made my decision. We got a lot to discuss._ ::

TBC

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_Despite how it ends up there is more I'm not stopping here!_

_Sorry about the wait, I blame it on a combination of BF and World of Warcraft. Its my man's fault! He has been pestering me for 3 months to get back onto to play with him…. Damn you and your addictiveness WoW!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Kinda got stuck in the middle of writing this part, but its done. Ironhide proves he is not a mech you want pissed with you. If u see any mistakes let me know._

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They made the move from the dig site almost immediately after receiving the transports projected landing coordinates. The renewed tremors in the area speeding the packing and storage process along significantly. The scientists vowed to return after the area was reassessed and declared stable again, if only to find exactly where Optimus had come from and any significant discoveries there in.

The joor long wait for the arrival of the transport has Ironhide running a near constant comm. line conversation with Alpha Trion, thoroughly picking the mech's CPU for what questions he may soon be facing and what general advice the older mech could provide. During this time he dealt with the sniggers from Alloy, childish jokes via comm. messages from Livewire and the strange looks from Raze and Hardtop.

None of his team had physically approached him yet, seeming wary of the hatchling he carried. The science mechs on the other hand had no such qualms. Once they realized they wouldn't get their heads blown off if they asked to see the hatchling, they had each come over in tern to better observe the little one. Currently two of the science team, Diode and Acolyte, were watching as Optimus emerged from recharge.

Bright gold optics light and un-shutter quickly snapping to focus sharply on Ironhide as the large mech pets the small hatchlings abdomen and chest. He's noticed himself doing that unconsciously a lot in the past 2 joors.

"Ah, his optics are such a beautiful colour. Hmm, so young yet already marked. I wonder what these little glyphs mean."

Acolyte muses, the slender deep purple scientist stretching out his double jointed legs so he can better see over the jutting armor of Ironhide's arm.

"It is a curiosity. Oh look at that I think he's watching Acolyte. So alert and focused already."

Diode coo's the tips of long multi-jointed fingers barely brushing the dark blue grey skin of the hatchlings thin arm. Ironhide silently cringes at the overly sweet display as the two grown mechs continue to fuss and coo over Optimus, completely ignoring his presence. For his part Optimus watches the two mechs intently. Wide curious optics flicking over the strange mechs faces and visibly body parts. He doesn't even flinching when touched. Alpha Trion had warned him that Optimus may be skittish around others and may not tolerate being touched by strangers, but for now the little one seems content observe the two mechs as they coo over him.

Noticing the little hatchling's optics beginning to dull again, shutters drooping, he shifts the small form back against his frame. A quick look and flick of a hand sends the two scientists scurrying back to their team mates, leaving the large mech alone with his charge. This was the forth time Optimus had briefly awoken from recharge. Alpha Trion had told him the hatchling should rest soundly at least until the transport arrived, but the little one appeared to be fighting recharge. Each time he awoke his optics would snap to focus on Ironhide with brief flash of desperation and fear before relaxing and turning to scan around the area or any mech present. Alpha Trion is at a loss to explain the strange behavior. Nervous tension gripped Ironhide's spark as he begins pacing, his left hand clenching and unclenching. If there is one thing that grates on the warriors nerves the most, its being in a situation where all his brawn, tactical logic and firepower are useless.

:: _Calm yourself Ironhide you're not helping the little one being so openly stressed. The transport will be here in a few short breems and the little one will be properly seen to… I honestly never would have picked you for the anxious worrying type._ ::

All Alpha Trion receives for his assurance is a derisive snort, but the warrior does stop pacing.

As promised the transport quickly comes into sight and all the mechs move to prepare for its arrival. Hardtop moves to stand on Ironhide's left while Alpha Trion moves near to his right. The entire group watches as the long white craft pulls a slow over head pass. The deep roar of the high speed thrusters dulls to a heady whine as anti-grav plates slide out from under the transports blunt nose and short, backswept wings. Wide bay doors open in the low slung belly of the craft as it levels out scant meters above the ground. Almost immediately 2 mechs leap from the open doors, quickly sprinting over to Ironhide's little group.

The larger of the two, a dull white mech with burn orange accents, is the first to reach them slowing to a halt. The glyphs adorning the mech's helm and shoulders showing him to be a mid ranking, level 2 medical officer. The mech stands only a head shorter than Ironhide with wide sturdy shoulders good for carrying and moving patients, with slender waist and legs ideal for maneuvering around berths and tables with minimum of space. All 3 mechs stiffen slightly as multiple broad spectrum scans sweep over them. Large blue optics zero in on Ironhide with an icy glare before flicking down to his curled arm. Stalking forward, anger and determination radiating from his field the medic's hands move with the clear intention of taking the hatchling. Ironhide instinctively rears back, twisting to put the bulk of his body between the medic and his hatchling. Free arm out flying out his hidden canon explodes from its hold to come level with the medics head.

Instantly the second smaller pale blue medic whips a large hand gun from behind his back, targeting system zeroing in on the Ironhide's helm. A quick tertiary scan reveals the gun contains chemical pellets capable of paralyzing a mech with a nasty neurotoxin. Not necessarily dangerous on their own, but aimed at the head or neck they have the potential to cause neural damage.

"Release the hatching right now warrior! You've clearly done enough harm. Don't make us use force."

The large white medic snaps, taking a short step forward causing the warrior to prime his canon. The smaller medic tenses, finger tightening around the trigger.

"No wait! Please wait! You don't understand!"

Alpha Trion cries rushing at the blue medic, slapping the gun away as it fires. At that moment all hell breaks loose. The science team bots quail and run for cover while the warriors howl in rage. Only the quick stand down comm. line order from Hardtop keeps them from moving in. Being mindful of the fragile little body clutched in Ironhide's opposite arm, Hardtop throws himself at the black mech.

"Stand down soldier! Everyone stop!"

Hardtop barks, grabbing Ironhide's canon arm forcing it down to the ground. In the midst of all this the white medic darts forward, roughly seizing the hatchling from Ironhide's grasp. Optimus immediately wakes, releasing a startled squeal as he is unceremoniously yanked away from the warmth of his guardian. The medic only gets two steps before a large hand clamps down on the back of his neck, digging deep under plating and into the muscle cables.

"RELEASE OPTIMUS NOW!"

The loud booming voice cuts across the surrounds causing everyone to freeze, the cacophony of yells and orders silenced. Optimus continues to squeal and thrash in the medics grasp, as Ironhide tightens his grip on the stunned medics neck.

"Give him back to me now or I will blast your fragging head clear off your shoulders."

Optics wide, the medic shakily tries to look back at the black warrior to find his second canon powered up inches from his head.

"Ironhide… Don't."

Hardtop hisses lowly as he slowly rises from were Ironhide has thrown him to the ground. Shifting to the side he settles into battle stance, ready to take Ironhide down at a moments notice.

"How dare you threaten me! Get your hand off me now. The hatchling needs medical attention. You have already caused him harm –"

Squeezing tighter, causing the medic to yelp in pain Ironhide growls deep in his chest each word pointedly pronounced, harmonics flat and hard.

"I did not hurt him. I would _never_ hurt Optimus. Let him go… now."

"I can't do that. Your kind can't be trusted with one this young!"

Untangling himself from the shocked blue medic Alpha Trion scrambles towards the mechs locked in a stand-off.

"Stop everyone please! Stop! Please, Ironhide never hurt the hatchling. He was already damaged when found. Ironhide no more. Please, don't do this. If you harm the medic they _will_ take Optimus from you. Don't give them more reason to do so. Please… let the medic go."

Alpha begs, violet optics besieging the large warrior to see logic. A shrill shriek from the hatchling finally drives Ironhide to abruptly release his grip on the medic. Haltingly the dull white mech turns, body still tense ready to bolt. Coming to face the slightly taller mech the medic loosens his hold on the screaming bundle of squirming plates and flailing limbs. Slowly reaching out Ironhide extracts the little body carefully from the medics hands. No sooner is Optimus back in Ironhide's arms, than the shrieking dies down to pitiful whimpers and the struggling stops.

Cradling the quaking body back against his chassis, Ironhide is hit with a torrent of panic, stress and confusion as Optimus' energy field desperately seeks out his. Pushing as much warmth, calm and assurance he can muster into his field he hoists the almost weightless body up to rest over his spark. Small hands scrape and grab at his armor plates seeking purchase, as small arms and legs clamp tight to Ironhide's wide chest. Large fingers gently rub and stroke over the small helm and back as Optimus very slowly calms. Over dilated optics shifting back to their normal range, stressed vents stuttering down to slower cycles as his over heated body rapidly cools. So focused on his charge Ironhide initially doesn't notice the little Trion turning on the larger medic.

"What in the name of the Allspark did you think you were doing?!? Charging in here and snatching a hatchling away from its guardian! Did you not read the data packet concerning the hatchling attached to Hardtops emergency message?"

Gaping the larger white mech moves to state his defense, but Alpha Trion marches ahead, harmonics loud and razor sharp.

"Clearly not! If you had, you would have easily noted the mingling of the warrior and hatchlings fields on your first sensory sweep. If you had read that data NONE of this would have happened! Answer me is this class 2 _medic_. Do you go charging into every emergency situation concerning hatchlings with guns waving, snatching the little one way from its guardian without explanation or proper warning?!?"

All the mechs present watch on with rising amusement as the scholar thoroughly tears down the large medic. Despite his lack of size and weight compared to the object of his ire, Alpha Trion paints the perfect image of a mech not to be trifled with. Ornate emerald and gold shoulder and back plates noticeably flared, violet optics glowing bright and energy field forcefully invading the larger mech's driving home his rage and indigence.

"Never have I seen such blatant disregard for the safety of a new born. The way you yanked Optimus away from his guardian was horrifying. You could have seriously damaged him!"

Sputtering the medic tries again and again to state his defense, but the small scholar makes it exceedingly clear he will not hear his excuses.

"And _you_!"

Rounding on the smaller pale blue medic, Alpha stabs an accusing finger at the startled mech.

"You aimed a weapon containing chemical pellets capable of causing sever neural damage at a _mechs helm_ while he was carrying a hatchling! Of all the open places you could have targeted to incapacitate him safely, you targeted his helm! Were you trying to be completely incompetent with a weapon or is this how you operate! You both disgust me."

Shunting a huge gush of atmosphere through his vents Alpha goes from mech on the war path, back to his usual serene self in a blink of an optic.

"I have noted your incompetence and I will be informing your superiors of your actions. Now, we have an injured new born hatchling in need of medical attention. I will be accompanying Ironhide and his charge back to Tyger Pax. I have all the data that will be needed on the hatchling from when he was first presented to now. Ironhide, shall we go?"

Gesturing for Ironhide to follow him, Alpha Trion calmly strides to the transport as if the tense fight and his spitting tirade hadn't happened. Ironhide follows the request in silence, barely managing to contain the smug smile that wants to break across his features. Internally he is grinning like a Cheshire cat and humming with glee. _I think I like him_, he muses following after the diminutive scholar. Throwing a quick glance back at the still sputtering white medic as he stands mortified and practically glowing with embarrassment, Ironhide finally allows himself a small smirk.

Climbing into the transport and setting himself down on a bench next to the Trion, Ironhide looks over at the elder mech with new respect.

:: _Thank you. For all ya did back there… I don't think I could have kept it together any longer if you hadn't stepped in._::

:: _You are welcome warrior, but please do not mention it… In all seriousness please don't. If such knowledge got out of me behaving in such an uncontrolled manner … well…_ ::

Barking a small laugh, Ironhide adjusts his grip on the little hatchling still clinging tightly to his chassis. He's relieved to see him deeply in recharge, but is still fuming over the medics actions. Giving the other a light pat on the shoulder Ironhide leans in a little closer as the two medics finally climb onboard.

"I won't, but can't speak for the rest of them."

The look on the Trion's angular face as realization slowly dawns on him is another little memento Ironhide stores away for the vorns to come.

TBC

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_Started back to Uni (university) again after 3 weeks break, so may be a bit longer between updates as my study and projects dictate._

_Still more to come and am starting to put together a continuation on from Upheaval._**  
**


	5. Chapter 5

_I'M NOT DEAD and neither have I dropped this. Been going nuts with uni work…. And my WoW addiction has kinda filled in my bits of down time. *hides*_

_Unbeta'd at this stage. Didn't want to be a pain and bug my beta reader since I gave this to them before xmas/new years. So more than likely a few mistakes even though I've made an attempt to beta it myself._

* * *

After the huge debacle with the arrival of the emergency evac transport and the over zealous actions of the 2 medics, things have settled to a more congenial state.

The dull white and burnt orange medic, Servo, his colleague and emergency medic in training, Highline, have apologized for their actions, albeit in a rather round about and convoluted manner. Alpha Trion is mildly satisfied with this, but Ironhide still remains wary of the two. He's never been all that trusting of medics to begin with. A few notably bad experiences will do that to a mech.

Though Ironhide is loath to let Servo near Optimus again he begrudgingly gives in after much cajoling via comm. line by Alpha Trion. Shifting the limp recharging form of Optimus into his lap, Ironhide doesn't take his sharp optics off the white medic for a second.

Moving closer, but remaining mindful of the dark mech's violate energy field, Servo runs multiple deep level scans over the hatchling. The collected data categorized, prioritized and referenced at blinding speeds within the white mech's augmented processor. Tapered nerve laden fingers trace over the soft plating, carefully examining the slowly healing scratches and dents concentrated mostly on the little ones extremities and chest before moving to better examine the damaged arm.

"The arm isn't as badly damaged as I first thought and I'm surprised to find no other real injuries all things considered. He's severely mineral deficient, but that is an issue easily treated with supplements."

Each word is spoken to Ironhide with a haughty sneer. Although the ebony mech merely stares back optics and face neutral, his energy field is seething. The smarmy little fragger is trying to bait him. Shifting his shoulders and leaning back against the wall the warrior feigns ignorance at the underhanded accusation. He can't loose it again so soon.

:: _That is enough Servo. You are here to assist Ironhide and provide medical attention for the hatchling, Optimus. Not to accuse the mech of the unsubstantiated abuse of a new born. Do not think I have stopped taking notes on your actions. My first report has already been forwarded to Tyger Pax by your pilot._ ::

As he sends the biting private comm. message Alpha Trion sits with a perfect air of ease. For his part Servo barely twitches, but Alpha can pick up the prickling, irritated shift in his fields.

"The scratches and dents will be healed by his own repair systems in 2-3 orns with a boost of the minerals he is lacking in. The arm should heal by itself within 6 orns with some binding to help straighten the plates. It will take me a few breems to make the mineral solution. Highline will see to the arm."

With that the white medic stiffly moves off as Highline steps in with a roll of flexible binding tape. Kneeling down the blue mech inspects Optimus' gun mental blue plating.

"Hm… he will need to be cleaned before I apply the binding. Any debris under it will cause irritation during healing."

Highline states, large green optics hesitantly flicking from Ironhide to Alpha Trion. Seeing a reply was not forth coming from either mech, the small medic quickly scuttles off to collect cleaning supplies.

Ironhide barely notices any of this as he glares after the retreating back of Servo. Seething, he would love nothing more than to introduce that cocky medics face to his fist. Bring the upstart down a few pegs. A light touch on the arm abruptly breaks his focus.

:: _I warned you of this Ironhide. You are doing well. Do not let it rile you now._ ::

Ironhide simply grunts. Finally noticing Highline has returned and been standing before him for several kliks, cleaning cloths and small bottle of light solvent in hand, Ironhide tilts his head to one side in silent question.

"He needs to be cleaned… do you… um… would you…"

Gesturing to Optimus, the small mech shifts nervously the arm carrying the cloths curled tightly to his chassis. Ironhide blankly stares back wondering what the mech is carrying on about.

"I believe he is asking if you would like to be shown how to handle and clean the little one properly, Ironhide."

Alpha supplies helpfully, giving the large mech a reassuring smile while his energy field near glows with amusement. The Trion had been noticing the large mech could be rather oblivious at times.

"Ah… yeah…right."

Alpha barely contains the small laugh that wants to escape him seeing the large mech try to regain his cold countenance as he is caught off guard and stutters in embarrassed. It proved despite his warrior's demeanor he is still a mech like any other.

Feeling Ironhide's fields soften, loosing the persistent violate edge, Highline kneels down in front of the large mech pouring some of the almost clear solvent onto one of the cloths. Handing it over to Ironhide, Highline verbally guides him though handling Optimus' fragile frame, now and again stepping in to show him how to clean under the edges of delicate plating, exposed muscle cabling and joints. For all the rough handling Optimus barely stirs from recharge, only fully waking to protest having his face and helm cleaned. His small body squirming, head twisting from side to side as small hands grab and pull at the offending wash cloth. Alpha laughs quietly at the antics as the last remnants of mixed dirt and grit is cleaned away.

"Now that's done I can bind his arm. This will need to be removed in 6 orns to prevent any pressure related retardation in the growth of the plating."

As he explains this Highline carefully lifts Optimus, rolling the hatchling onto his stomach for easier access to his damaged arm. Aside from a short displeased churr the drowsy hatchling doesn't put up a fight. Smoothing a quick caress over the hatchlings helm and back Highline begins wrapping the off white tape firmly around the upper then lower arm.

Feeling somewhat more relaxed Ironhide sits back and watches the medic's skilled hands making short work of the task. Nimble fingers wrap the pliable tape at just the right thickness and pressure around the thin arm. Rubbing his thumb along the back of the small helm cupped in his large palm Ironhide feels his over tensed muscle cables loosening as his charges fields slowly settle into a more even flow.

Finishing up and sealing off the tape, the small blue medic sits back on his haunches collecting the now filthy wash cloths and other discarded items. He can't help but take this quiet moment to observe the warrior and the hatchling for himself.

Taking his own subtle readings on the hatchling and his chosen guardian, Highline notes with curiosity how strong the hatchlings energy field is reading and how well it interacts with the warriors. The young medic had always presumed warrior class mech's to be constantly on alert, ill tempered and far too rough to even want to have to handle a hatchling. Seeing one sitting so quietly, completely relaxed and being almost painfully gentle with a new born left his processor slightly reeling.

Picking up on the light scans and noticing Highline glancing between himself and Optimus with obvious curiosity Ironhide shifts slightly, head tilting in silent question. It was obvious in the mech's posture and fidgeting that he wanted to say something, but was wary of voicing it.

"What?"

The deep rumble laced with mild annoyance from the black mech jolts the medic out of his thoughts. Sitting even further back on his haunches the small mech nervously rolls his shoulders, glancing around a moment before finding his vocalizer.

"Well ah… You certainly have created a strong bond in such a short time. Your energy fields settled together so. I honestly would never have expected one of your class to become so well settled with a new hatchling, let alone have it bond to you so quickly. That is not to say anything against you, of course. It is just a new occurrence to me that has not been encountered before in my training or studies."

Completely oblivious to the looks he is receiving the pale blue mech continues on.

"All things considered I am truly amazed the little one is as healthy as he is. I've gone through all Servo's findings, comparing them to my references and they indicated with the levels of nutrient and energon in the trace samples were so low he should be much worse off than having mineral deficiency. He is extremely luck you found him when you did. I honestly doubt he would have lasted more than a few joors on his own. Even if he hadn't been born when he was with the levels encountered he would not have survived more than 15 orns in the pod at best…"

Finally the sub sonic growl rattling within Ironhide's chassis and Alpha Trion gaping in shock, Highline quickly silences himself. Long mandibles snap shut with an audible click. Slender fingers scratch and pick at thigh plating in a nervous gesture as the medic hurriedly apologies.

"Please excuse me. I'm sorry. I tend to get a little carried away at times, I should not have said that, but thankfully he is healthy and very lucky… uh… As Servo said a mineral solution will help the hatchling -"

"Optimus."

The low rumble makes the small blue mech jump. Wide green optics flick between Ironhide and Alpha Trion as the mech hurriedly corrects himself to placate the intimidating warrior.

"Optimus, yes, it will help with the healing of his arm and the minor plate damage. It should be ready soon. I'll… um…. I'll just dispose of all this and check in with Servo."

Watching the medic beat a hasty retreat Ironhide turns his attention back to the hatching cradled in his loosely folded arms. Optimus is still lying sprawled out awkwardly on his stomach, his small helm turned to inspect his surrounds, oblivious to what had been said.

Seeing his charge is quite content to stay as they are the warrior slips back into his quiet brooding, thumb continuing to absently brush soft strokes over the back of the thinly plated helm. The unnerving thought that if he had been patrolling further away and not been right there where Optimus emerged they would not be sitting here right now, left a cold chill running through his neural nets. It was an idea he sorely did not want to think about, but found his processor betraying him. Scenario after scenario rolls across his mind each with an outcome worse than the last.

"Ah excuse me, Ironhide?"

Starting out of his musings the dark warrior glances up to find Highline and Servo standing in front of him, the latter a good step behind the smaller medic. Optics flicking to Highline he notices a small syringe-like tool resting in the medics outstretched hands. A quick scan shows it half filled with a mix of energon and powdered minerals.

"Optimus needs to intake this orally to be properly processed. It would be best if… uh… I administered this I'm afraid. Not that you couldn't! It's just that a false move could do damage. Not that you would of course!"

Giving the medic-in-training a firm rap on the head, Servo snaps at his counterpart.

"Stop rambling and just get it done. Please hold him warrior so he doesn't move too much."

Glaring at the larger medic, Ironhide ever so gently rolls the half recharging hatchling over lifting them to rest propped up in the crook of his arm. For his troubles Ironhide is met with a frustrated growl.

A silent laugh rattles deep within Ironhide's chest at the sight of thin facial plating scrunching up in an amusing display of annoyance. Wasting no time Highline crouches next to Ironhide's hip, shifting the small syringe in his slender fingers for the proper grip. Servo remains standing watching every move with sharp critical optics. Adjusting his grip on his small charge, Ironhide can't help but flick his gaze to the white and orange medic.

Every line of the mech's posture, although relaxed to the average optic, screams tightly wound tension and ill ease to Ironhide. Burnt orange fingers grip at hip plates and narrowed blue optics glow over bright. Directing a very clear warning glare at the tense medic, Ironhide returns all his attention back to the task at hand.

"Sorry little one, I know you're tired. It's alright."

Ironhide murmurs softly in hopes of calming the growing apprehension he's feeling through Optimus' fields and tense frame. Maneuvering forward at a deliberately careful, slow pace Highline holds the tapered blunt tip of the syringe just over tiny mandible plates. Optimus immediately attempts to turn his head away. Optics shuttering tightly as instincts drive him to keep the strange thing away from his easily damaged facial plating. Small hands fling out in a blind defensive move, weakly gripping the offending object in an attempt to push it away.

"Hey it's alright. Come on now, this is for ya own good. Open up. It won't hurt, I promise."

Sending rolls of encouragement and comfort through his energy field Ironhide rubs his fingers over the thin chest and abdominal plating as Highline carefully nudges the syringe tip against closed lip plates.

Muddy yellow optics go from starting near cross eyed at the 'thing' pressed so close to his face up to the warm blue optics of his guardian. The comfort provided by his guardian's fields, the trust in their optics and the warmth from their body quickly wins over Optimus' weary processor. He's simply too tired put up a fight anymore.

"Good. Very good little one."

Highline coos, one hand gently cupping the hatchlings chin as he slowly presses down on the syringe plunger. Optimus jolts as the first drizzles of the energon mix strike the back of his throat. Once the sensors lining the upper and lower plates of his inner mouth register the liquid as safe and something his systems have been craving his throat tubing opens.

All 4 mechs watch as the hatchling eagerly takes down all the energon offered with no complaint. Gently withdrawing the now empty syringe and prying away the thin hands, Highline smiles as the little one rolls to curl up against his guardian's lower chest, fingers hooking into the edges of plating as he rapidly slips back into recharge.

"He should recharge now until we reach Tyger Pax. He'll need a dose every orn for at least 23 orns, but you will be able to give it to him from now on."

Highline states, fingers grazing lightly over a jutting little shoulder before he leans back to stand. Turning to his superior the smaller mech is quick to wipe the smile from his features, silently scuttling off to his duties elsewhere in the shuttle. Eyeing the dark warrior a moment longer, Servo excuses himself moving off to the shuttles cockpit. Glaring after the medic who has sorely spiked his ire, Ironhide finds himself strangely less inclined to simply flatten the mech. He feels strangely tranquil and content in himself now his charge's fields are perfectly even and content.

This leaves him feeling both disturbed and strangely content within himself. Before now if a mech had looked at him once the way Servo had been, he wouldn't have hesitated in getting up close and personal with them. Now he was more concerned with not disturbing his charge over maintaining his gruff and icy reputation.

When he gets back the other instructors at the training facility are going to have a field day with this. He just knew it.

Several breems quietly pass as Ironhide watches Optimus recharge nestled in the crook of his arm. Finally noticing the hollow silence outside the barely audible hum of the ships engines Ironhide looks down at his traveling companion, truly observing the mech for the first time.

Despite his small size and relatively thin and ornately structured plating, Alpha Trion radiates a sense of deep knowledge and eternal patience. Outside such base observations Ironhide realizes he barely knows the mech who he now considers a friend.

Ironhide has never been one for idle conversation. So far the two have only spoken in a more or less question and answer format. Ironhide supplying the questions, mostly focused around his new lot in life, and Alpha Trion patiently giving what answers or reassurances he can. They had yet to have what could be called a true conversation.

When he looks down at the little mech he can't help but think of the vast differences between them in not only their professions, but their backgrounds and general personalities. What could a middle ranked military weapons trainer possibly share in common with a highly ranked scholar of the Cybertonian counsel?

Ironhide delights in construction and testing of new weapons and ammunitions, mock battles and training the next generation of soldiers and law enforcers. His orn isn't complete without at least one session on the firing range. The residual heat and electricity tickling though the struts and cabling after a good round always leaves him feeling centered and at ease. He highly doubts military tactics or weapons would remotely interest the small scholar.

"I have mentioned my being a guardian once, correct?"

Alpha Trion's abrupt question snaps the large mech out of his musing. Bright optics search the others countenance for clues to the sudden question, Ironhide slowly nods.

"Ah yes. He came into my care after a very close friend of mine, Psi Trion, was lost in a 'diplomatic misunderstanding' in early relations with the small planet Idiosareem."

Ironhide blinks, staring down at the emerald mech before shunting a stiff rush of atmosphere through his vents.

"Ya mean the complete screw up where a known organa-phobe guards mech was sent with the diplomatic liaisons to a planet of sentient organics, flipped his processor when they were mobbed by excited locals and discharged his weapons into the crowd killing 436 civilians and driving their soldiers to react in kind. That the 'diplomatic misunderstandin' you're talkin' bout?"

It is now Alpha's turn to blink back at the larger mech in surprise. Facial plates dropping into a neutral set, field exuding a clearly un-amused buzz Alpha Trion continued on unimpeded.

"Yes, that incident. Psi Trion was amongst the group of diplomats on the mission. After the loss, his long term partner and guards mech, Cobalt, was found to be unfit as sole guardian for the 3 vorn old youngling. The poor mech became quite… unwell after the loss of Psi. Being that I already knew the youngling and that he was already comfortable with my presence I was found to be suitable for guardianship and he was transferred into my care. Thankfully he was too young to properly comprehend death and readily accepted my explanation for why Psi Trion had not returned."

Leaning forward a little Alpha ran a gold tipped finger down the Optimus curled leg as he continued on.

"He was a bright little spark, but had a short temper and rebellious streak, constantly acting out and getting himself into all manner of trouble at home or in the educational centre. Do not take this wrong. He was a wonderful youngling, very intelligent and caring. I believe his little temper tantrums and rebellions were just attention seeking. He eventually grew out of it, but still retains that sharp mind and quick temper despite my best efforts."

A wistful expression falls over the elder mech's features as he continues to regale Ironhide with his experiences while watching the resting hatchling in the large mech's arms. Leaving very little out Alpha tells him of the vorns of ups and downs, the good times and bad as the youngling rapidly grew into a large, powerful aerial mech he knows Psi and Cobalt would have been exceedingly proud of.

"He is a young adult now, training in the military academy in Vos. Just recently I received word from him informing me of his transfer to Kaon's main military compound in a few orns. Selected to be trained as part of the new deep space tactical unit, he said. Oh how proud and happy he is to have his ground and aerial prowess recognized. He can be a little overconfident at times, but I cannot deny the great pride I hold knowing that everything he has labored so hard for is slowly coming to fruition."

"Hm… Never would have guessed ya for one to be happy to have the younglin' he raised join the military."

Ironhide prods, vocals laced with an amused lit. The little scholar had made it most clear early on in their meeting that he is quiet leery of military types and the military in general.

"Oh, no. I have never wholly approved of the military and their heavy handed tactics. Always brute force first, questions and reasoning later. No offence meant to you. It is sadly something we fought over many a time. I had great hopes for him within the diplomatic circles with his brilliant sharp mind and quick wit, but one cannot deny what the spark desires. His is that of a warrior meant for protecting our people and reaching to the stars and beyond and that is what his is achieving. I would be a bare sparked liar if I said I am not proud his achievements. That I am."

Thinking over everything for a moment Ironhide compiles the description Alpha Trion provided of his charge. The mech does sound familiar, but having started off basic training with so many over confident, little upstart younglings over the vorns he can't be sure he is thinking of the right mech.

"Does he still go by that designation? He sounds mildly familiar, but the name doesn't trigger any recall."

Slender fingers run down his long chin as Alpha's facial plates scrunch slightly in thought.

"Sadly no. He was never particularly fond of that designation, constantly stating it was weak and improper for a true warrior such as himself. Such nonsense. He has always preferred to be addressed by the designation Cobalt gave him. Megatron."

Ironhide huffed a small laugh at that. Yes, that was the little upstart he was thinking of. He was more than happy to hand that one off to the mechs in Vos when he was selected. Very smart and a quick learner, but low be the mech who told him he was wrong. The droning voice of the pilot abruptly cuts through the internal speakers.

"We have arrived in Tyger Pax air space. We should be landing at the main medical centre in approximately 10 breems. All non-staff members please remain seated until further instructions."

Glancing at one another neither mech has realized how much time had passed as they talked. Shifting Ironhide mentally steels himself for their landing in Tyger Pax. He was not looking forward to it any more now than he was 2 joors ago.

TBC

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_Hehehe like you didn't see that one coming towards the end with Megatron. Couldn't help myself.  
_


	6. Chapter 6

_Back again finally. Been sick on and off and have been having issues with my 'crunchy pretzel' spine (as a close friend likes to call it lol) UN-BETA'D_

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If he were a mech of lesser mental strength and capability he is sure he would not have come through the last joors of that particular orn with his processor still intact. Even now, sitting in the darkened quiet of his personal quarters, half read display pad in hand, just thinking about it all brought about a dull throb behind his optics.

Shortly after arrival at the central medical centre of Tyger Pax he was hastily separated from Alpha Trion and Optimus. Ushered into a non-descript grey room with his worry and temper placated by promises Optimus was being seen to and that he could see him again after answering a few questions.

A few questions. Ha, that's funny. Very fragging funny. It was more like an interrogation.

Alpha Trion forewarned him of the questioning and the scrutinizing of his character, but he barely scratched the surface. They started with making him recount and share every piece of information concerning when, when and under what conditions Optimus was found including the joors leading up to their arrival back in Tyger Pax. Once that formality was done the real enquiry started. They picked at almost every detail of his personal life, profession, training and the mech's he associates with.

At times their questions struck certain nerves far too hard leaving the mech teetering on the edge of his small well of self control. The slow burn of indignant rage and frustration growing with each clinically delivered probing question as the breems dragged on into one then two joors.

Despite the mounting want to physically take out his frustrations he knew one out burst would be all it would take. One explosive show of his violate temper and his chances of seeing the hatchling would be shot to scrap. That was all that helped him keep it together, shoving all the anger and frustration down for release at a later, safer time.

It took a lot to hide the sheer relief when the questioning was done, forms and files were completed and Optimus was returned to him as his official charge. Taking all the data sticks full of the required reading material he did not flee from the medical centre. No, he was just very eager to get back to his living quarters for well earned rest for both himself and his young charge.

Alpha Trion had already sent him over two dozen private comm. messages since they were separated in the medical centre docking bay. They ranged from over the top praise and encouragement to checking on the status of Optimus and the warrior himself. The last message he received from elder scholar informed him that, despite his desire to personally see Optimus back to Ironhide's living quarters, his presence was urgently required back at the dig site. A small survey and rescue team was being gathered to be sent back with him as a precaution should any other hatchlings be found in the decaying substructure. He made it adamantly clear he would contact the warrior again as soon as possible to inform him of any significant findings.

That was seven full orns ago. So far Ironhide had only recharged a total of eight joors, still strung out over the sudden upheaval in his comfortably routine life. Not that he would give it up for anything now. A few orns ago if the option had been there he would have been quick to throw the responsibility off onto another mech, but not now. He still finds it strange and a little disturbing how quickly he has become so strongly attached to the little hatchling, now old enough to be classed as a mechling.

Roughly pulling the data stick from the small display pad in a fit of pique, Ironhide tosses both onto a nearby work bench with little care. He's read the same segment of glyphs 4 times now and it still isn't sinking in. His muddled mind is refusing to focus anymore on the overly detailed, dryly delivered information regarding hatchling development.

Ironhide huffs out an exasperated rush of heated air as he unconsciously strokes the outer casing of one of his much cherish cannons. If he's not reading he should be taking this time to finish off the last reports and forms he has left over from the training academy, but can't be bothered with any more 'paper work'. He purrs softly over the now fully transformed weapon as large fingers absently begin performing the well worn ritual of testing and inspection of the huge piece of unique weaponry.

Each bolt, housing, converter, line and wire is meticulously shifted, flexed, inspected and tested with the upmost precision and eye for detail. The tedious, drawn out little task helps to slowly bleed a little of the tension from his frame and mind leaving behind the needed sense of familiarity and routine. Since he can't go to the firing range to release all this pent up tension in the usual fashion, this is the best alternative he has. For a few precious moments all feels right again within his own little world.

18 breems into his careful inspection of his second cannon his concentration is broken by a clattering thump and a short startled wail. Throwing his large frame up from his seat, long strides quickly carry him to the main recharge chamber. Rounding the doorway he is greeted with the sight of his extremely young charge scrambling to their feet as they toss aside the black thermal sheet from the berth. Their energy field so out of control and spread he can sense the fretfulness and panic at a distance.

Performing a quick base scan for any injuries he squelches the want to snap at the hatchling for yet again disturbing his maintenance routine. He easily scoops up the small form bringing them close to his chassis. Although he has noticeably grown in such a short time and gained a modest amount of body mass, Optimus' weight is still negligible to the dark warrior.

Small shaking hands immediately latch onto his armor as soon as it is within range, thin fingers digging into any available gaps to lock in their purchase. Over dilated, gold optics flick to lock with blue as the thin frame slowly relaxes and stops trembling. Optimus has yet to complete a full recharge cycle alone, always waking after only a joor or three and immediately scrambling off his lowered berth in search of his guardian. Frequently disturbing Ironhide's attempts at some of his normal routines leaving him even more wound up and stressed.

Even though he worried they may take his asking for help so soon as a sign of failure, Ironhide had made light of the odd behavior when he took Optimus in to have the binding on his arm removed. He was concerned with what seemed like small panic attacks occuring during every recharge cycle and leaving Optimus lacking in proper recharge.

The medics had assured him it was nothing, just attention seeking. They insisted on keeping up a steady routine of Ironhide keeping his distance during these 'episodes', putting Optimus back in his berth with minimal contact and leaving him to recharge alone, saying the problem would sort itself out it with consistent reinforcement.

Quite frankly he thought they were full of hot slag.

If it was attention seeking the mechling would be demanding to be held and carried every time he awoke. Just seeing Ironhide always seemed to be enough to encourage Optimus back to his berth with minimal fuss, his mere presence sufficient to lull him back to recharge for a time. Even so it didn't relieve his nerves in the least. He kept worrying Optimus may hurt himself during one of his 'episodes' if he didn't stay attentive.

Large fingers gently rub over the lightly plated back as the dark mech murmurs questions he knows the little one cannot yet answer.

"What's goin' on in that little processor of yours eh? What's gettin' ya so wound up?"

Stooping to collect the tangled sheet from the floor, Ironhide slumps back against the edge of his own large berth half draping the sheet over the small frame resting in his thick arm.

"We can't have ya doin' this all the time alright? It ain't good for ya."

Staring down into the innocent, trusting optics any lingering irritation Ironhide had walked in with quickly evaporates. Looking away he shifts his weight in an unconscious display of his discomfort. His short temper and reputation for pulling his weapons on anything that irritated him was almost legendary. But now no matter how annoyed or frustrated he becomes he can never seem to hold it against the small mechling, especially once the little thing looks at him. Something he finds both strangely soothing and mildly unsettling. To have someone so vulnerable trust one as violent and harsh as himself so unconditionally is something he finds hard to grasp.

Feeling something gently brush the underside of his jaw Ironhide returns his attention back to the bundle resting in his arm. A small hand rests where it could reach just under his jaw, bright optics gazing up at him displaying open curiosity and concern. Mentally kicking himself he suddenly realizes he has been openly projecting. All his silent, internal conflicts slipping through the bond shared between their synced fields.

Gently grasping the tiny hand he tucks it back against Optimus' side. Pulling the thermal sheet up higher over their wide shoulders, he pulses warm reassurance through his field.

"'s alright, Optimus. Nothin' for ya to be worryin' about. Now, Optimus, _you_ should be rechargin'."

Ironhide lightly taps a large finger on the small helm crest on saying the mechling's name, earning a flurry of happy clicks in response. It doesn't take long for Optimus to settle resting his helm against his guardian's thick plating, body slowly going lax as he easily slips back into recharge. Watching him rest Ironhide considers putting Optimus back in his own berth and returning to completing the reports or finishing reading that torturously boring data stick. His pondering last all of 2 kliks.

"Frag that."

He grumbles softly to himself, making sure highly impressionable audios don't pick up on his profanity. Last thing he needs is for his charge to spit out some foul curse as their first proper vocalization.

Watching Optimus so peacefully and feeling him so content leaves the elder mech painfully aware the fatigue creeping his frame, smoothing his CPU like thick sticky tar. The orns without proper recharge and the burden of the mental and physical stresses finally getting the better of him.

Resting his broad frame on the berth he carefully arranges Optimus across the central planes of his chest over his spark. Laying back he lightly shifts and spreads his back and shoulder armor till he is weight is comfortably distributed atop the layer of memory foam. Large hands adjust the thermal sheet helping to contain what little heat Optimus thin body generates while in recharge, making certain his long limbs are well covered.

Taking in the even, contented energy field softly pulsing against his own, Ironhide finally allows the last of the tension to bleed from his body. Systems audibly gear down towards a considerably more sedate running state while muscle cables and over pressurized hydraulics hiss softly as seven orns worth of pent up pressure is finally released.

Bringing one large hand up to rest over his small charge training a few subroutine-run sensors on the mechling, Ironhide rapidly follows him into the waiting, blissful darkness of recharge.

- - - - - - - -

Insistent tapping against his cheek flanges start Ironhide out of the heavy embrace of deep recharge. Optics flicking online and protective shutters snapping open, his foggy processor is greeted with the blurry sight of a small silvery face with large yellow optics staring down into his own. Sharp blue optics flick as they are reset before coming to focus on his charge looming over him, their helm tilting as fine facial plates shift into an expression of triumph. It's taken a bit of prodding but he's finally has his guardian's attention.

Rumbling deep in his chest, Ironhide reaches up with both hands, easily plucking the happily tittering Optimus from his perch on his collar spurs. Sitting up, Ironhide absently pings his internal chronometer. He nearly drops Optimus with the reply he receives.

15 joors. He's been out for just over 15 joors. He hasn't recharged that long since he was a youngling!

Mortified and internally berating himself for such laziness, he swings his thick legs over the edge of the berth mind. His rapidly mulls over what he should have been doing in the time he wasted. Just because he had a new status as a guardian he didn't get out of doing what he can for his position as a weapons and defense trainer. As he thinks over what reports and forms he should have completed by now an annoyed grumble snaps his attention to the wriggling mechling in his grasp. Optimus' facial plates suddenly pinched into a sour glare.

Thinking for a moment about what could have brought on such a fast mood swing, Ironhide quietly curses. Shifting Optimus to rest in the crook of his arm he bolts into the common area, quickly opening recessed storage cabinets and dumping a few items onto the small slide out bench.

"Slaggit… oops… I'm sorry bitlet. Just bare with me a breem and we'll get ya sorted."

Doing everything one handed, he manages to man-handle the seals off two canisters of energon pouring half of ones luminescent blue contents into a tall octagonal shaped cup. Picking up a metal vial barely half the length of his own finger, he manipulates the seal open using the points of his teeth, pouring the contents into the cup. Using his finger he roughly mixes the copper and silver swirled mineral supplement into the energon then handing the cup to the hungry mechling.

"Ok, here you go."

Optimus wastes no time in grabbing the cup and hungrily gulping down the energon mixture. Panicking Ironhide grabs hold of the cup within Optimus' grasp, tilting it down attempting to slow the flow of energon down to a reasonable rate.

"Hey, hey whoa there! I know you're hungry little one, but you'll upset ya tanks if ya drink it like that. Slow down… Good, that's better."

Ironhide warmly praises his charge as Optimus' slows down, feeding at a less frantic pace. As a precaution Ironhide maintains his controlling grip on the cup until its contents are drained. Gently prying the cup from the mechling's firm grasp he moves to put it aside from cleaning later. A sudden plaintive whine halts him mid motion. Glancing down he notices the small outstretched hands making grabbing motions for the cup.

"Guess ya still hungry huh? Did miss one feedin' and you're 'bout due for another. Alright ya can have the rest, but drink slowly."

Pouring the remaining contents of the first canister into the cup, Ironhide watches Optimus carefully as he returns the now full cup. With a pleased churr the mechling takes the cup back and feeds at a much more sedate pace as instructed. Satisfied, Ironhide takes up the second canister slowly sipping its contents as he moves to sit in his usual spot shifting Optimus to rest in his lap, back pressed against his abdominal plating.

Picking up a long segmented cylinder from a nearby table Ironhide depresses a small button at its base prompting a rectangular cyan blue holographic screen to slide out. Glyphs rapidly scroll down the display as the compact computer remotely links to the main terminals at the training academy. Releasing fine data cables from a recess in his wrist Ironhide smoothly plugs himself in quickly bringing up his incomplete reports and forms. Glyphs and information flow back and forth between his CPU and the screen with practiced ease as he sets to work.

Curious golden optics rapidly flit about trying to follow the almost chaotic flash and twirl of red, green and purple glyphs, lines and symbols as they play across the translucent screen. None of it makes any sense to him, but he finds it all fascinating.

"Its all flashy colours and stuff to ya now bitlet, but once ya understand this, reports like these are gonna be the bane of ya existence… I know they are mine."

The bulky mech rumbles, finishing the last of his energon. His little gripe is completely ignored by his charge who is far too engrossed in watching the movements across the screen.

Roughly 26 breems later Ironhide adds his signature glyph to the last reports are uploads them to the main academy data base for final approval. Switching the cylindrical computer back to standby he finally turns his full attention back to the small dark form half balled up in his lap. Optimus had dropped into recharge again only a few breems earlier. Ironhide could feel the thrum of his systems working overtime to process all the excess energon. Obviously going from having almost nothing left in his reserves to having too much to process at once was taking its toll, but not necessarily in a bad way. He'd read that mechlings did the majority of their energy processing and resource allocation in recharge, unlike adults who run maintenance and memory data sorting.

Right now Optimus' systems were working over time to put all the energy and added minerals in the energon to good use in his rapidly growing frame. A passing scan confirms Optimus will be out for a little while yet. Standing and moving to the berth room Ironhide hopes his charge will be able to make a full recharge cycle on their own this time.

He's barely set his charge down and thrown the thermal sheet over them before a private comm. message request pings though his left audio finial. It takes him a klik to register the signature of the message with a name.

:: _Alpha Trion?_ ::

:: _Yes Ironhide. Please excuse this impromptu message, but I have information I believe you will want to hear first hand._ ::

Raising an orbital ridge at the strange tone in the others message, Ironhide prompts the scholar to continue.

:: _Information? Such as?_ ::

:: _It is in regard to the dig site… and Optimus. ::_

Sharp blue optics narrow at the statement.

_:: How is the little hatchling fairing? Is he healthy and growing at optimal rate? _ ::

:: _Don't change subjects Trion. What information?_ ::

The flat tone carries the clear warning of Ironhide's rapidly dissolving patience.

:: _Ah, yes. My apologies, Ironhide. There is too much to discuss to be efficient by private comm. line. It would be best if we meet face to face. Would you object to meeting in the Tyger Pax spire gardens? And… could you bring Optimus with you? I would most appreciate seeing his progress._ ::

Ironhide paces, CPU analyzing the request in full and its potential implications. Coming to a halt just outside the berth room, he watches Optimus recharge as he comes to his decision.

:: _Ironhide?_ ::

:: _Yeah, alright. I think it's about time he got a better look outside my apartment anyway. When and what time?_ ::

TBC

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_Yes Ironhide does in fact have pointy teeth. You get a glimpse of them in the 07 movie when he yells "It's Starscream!"_


	7. Chapter 7

_Two updates at once… yeah suddenly started writing and couldn't stop after my minor hiatus. WARNINGS on this chapter: Mentions of violence and the death of hatchlings. UNBETA'D!_

_Oh and THANK YOU to everyone for the great reviews!_

_I have 2, potentially 3, more stories in the works atm. One linking back to this one and Upheaval and the other 2 TF:A verse ones._

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Effortlessly keeping pace with the over excited clicking and squealing mechling darting around a few steps ahead, Ironhide laughs at Optimus' exuberance. He watches as his charge runs circles around a smaller set of spires behind the transparent plate fencing. The tall, slender crystal shaped metal shards languidly floating via natural magnetic repulsion between a few inches to a few feet above the ragged ground. The lights from nearby structures reflecting off the vibrating marbled surfaces as the spires slowly rotate. Each surface and sharp edge sending out mixed patters of light, colour and barely audible sound. Each spire ringing with their own unique tones, the larger ones songs so deep it is more felt than heard.

Trilling with delight at the flowing lights, strange sounds and sensations, Optimus turns to spot the largest set of the spires towards the centre of the gardens. Small feet ringing out a sharp stucco on the raised walkway as he sprints over until outstretched hands impact the protective barrier. Pressing his hands firmly against the clear silicon sheeting, tittering at the funny vibrations running up his arms, he turns to find his guardian already ambling over.

"I'hide! I'hide! Look it!"

Optimus squeals in-between bouts of over excited incoherent clicks and trills. His control over his vocalizer is steadily improving, but he still suffers moments of nonsense babble when over stimulated.

"Yeah I see 'em bitlet."

Bracing both hands against the fencing Optimus tilts comically backwards as he tries to see the top of the huge spire. Bending too far back he abruptly overbalances and topples backward with a started squeak, landing on his aft with a ringing clang. He sits there a moment, slightly stunned from the impact before quickly shaking off the dull pain in his aft back and rolling back up onto his feet.

"Are you alright little one?"

Starting violently at the unfamiliar voice he spins around, almost knocking himself over again, coming face to face with a strange crouching mech. He quickly assesses them, noting the relaxed posture, their plating a mix of emerald and gold, all finely detailed lines, curves and layers with optics a soft glowing violet. A quick glance finds his guardian standing just behind the stranger, pose laid-back and fields giving out no sign of alarm. Staring pensively at the strange mech he receives a warm smile and a gentle brush of the others energy field against his, humming with warmth and trust.

"My you have grown little one and only 14 orns old. It feels a though a vorn has past since I last saw you… You do not remember me do you?"

He receives a blank stare in reply.

"How silly of me of course not. You would have been much too young. My name is Alpha Trion. I am an acquaintance of your guardian, Ironhide."

Gesturing behind him, Alpha Trion watches the wide optics flick to follow his movement before locking back onto him with a sharp analytical stare. Slowly easing himself up from his low crouch, Alpha Trion takes a step back to the side leaving a wide clear path between Optimus and his guardian.

Optics flicking from his guardian to this new mech, Optimus swiftly moves to stand behind Ironhide's wide leg. Small hands gently gripping the big mech's lower leg plating, crested helm coming to resting just above the back of the knee joint. Ironhide can sense his charges field shifting and twitching with apprehension, shyness and some degree of hostility. He can understand the last due to his encounters with strangers so far not being all that pleasant.

Optimus had apparently taken his frustration and stress out on a few poor mechs at the medical centre during his first examination. Many intruding hands and fingers were left scratched and pitted from sharp pointed little teeth. It was something Ironhide found hilarious, but was quick to teach Optimus biting was wrong.

"Ya said ya wanted to meet to talk about this face to face. What information ya got?"

Ironhide states in a flat tone, easily snatching the Trion's attention away from the mechling hiding behind him.

"Yes, of course. As I notified you of earlier I went back to the site where you found Optimus, this time with a search and rescue team as a precaution. That lot made such an awful mess of the area. No regard for the artifacts or remains of the structure what so ever, but we discovered much more than I could ever have anticipated."

Beginning to pace the smaller mech gestures openly as he recounts what occurred. The gaps they found showing evidence of where Optimus crawled out. The dangers they encountered over 6 joors of careful digging through the fragile, crumbling structure, the scares and near misses with corroding support beams and falling debris. When they finally reached an open space the sight they encountered horrified them all as much as it humbled.

"It was a nursery… or what remained of one. The majority of the structure had collapsed in quite some time ago, but this very small chamber, only really large enough in width to hold approximately 4 large framed mechs, remained almost entirely intact. It appears to have been deliberately built separate from the main chamber. The broken very tall and heavy doors the only exit to the remnants of what was once a large nursery. I've never seen structures so heavily carved with images and glyphs in such a small space. The language was of the ancients, but mixed with some old state common cybertronian. Much of what I could decipher in passing were prayers of protection and blessing of the Allspark."

Seeing the warriors confusion, the elder presses just behind his right audio. With a flash a glowing blue hologram appears mid air between them. The display is of a mostly intact but corroding room. The remains of the walls and pod support structures scrawled with strange soft curved, script like glyphs and symbols combined with the sharper lined old cybertronian glyphs. None of the markings of glyphs mean anything to the black mech. Shutting off the display Alpha Trion resumes pacing in an agitated manor, vocals cool and clinical.

"We found approximately 27 pods in what remained of the main nursery… some had only the remnants of the casing left indicating the hatchlings had been born, but most… most where damaged or crushed… the hatchlings long passed... I am not one best qualified to make such assumptions but it appeared a vicious battle took place within the nursery based upon the damage and corpses we encountered. Why, we cannot yet know without further study."

Optics dimming the Trion stops pacing coming to halt front of the larger mech. He briefly glances down at the mechling shyly hiding behind his guardian's leg before releasing a soft puff of heated air. Gathering himself he meets the warriors questioning optics, harmonics gradually softening with a saddened edge.

"We located the remains of at least 7 mechs, we believe to be a mix of warriors and guards out in what was left of the main nursery chamber. All were found near the doors of the secondary chamber. Each appears to have been felled by various blade and crush wounds, some with the instrument of demise still lodged within their frames. The doors to the secondary chamber showed evidence of being blasted open, possibly with crude explosives. They were twisted, charred and melted… Mostly crushed under one door we found the remains of a very large, but thin and strangely built mech we currently surmise to have been a nursery attendant. Another two were found near him… one clearly of a warrior type reviling you in size the other potentially another attendant, both locked together by the blades and spear that tore their bodies and extinguished their sparks… At the back of the chamber we found two more mechs and evidence of where Optimus emerged from."

Hearing his name spoken, Optimus moves to look around his guardian's leg at the other mech. He can sense the sadness and disquiet rolling off the slender, colourful mech in palatable waves.

"We followed the trail of freshly dried nutrient gel to a recently hatched pod in the far back of the room, along with 3 more pods held within another attendant's arms. The one I displayed portions of. 9 destroyed pods were discovered in the middle of the chamber with a mech speared through the chest amongst them, but we found the 4 including the one Optimus hatched from, protected by the attendant all intact –"

"Ya mean there are others?!?! Why didn't ya tell me that to start with? Where are they?"

Ironhide barks, a wide range of emotions tearing through his field. Anger, fear, guilt and shame rush through him at the thought that he left defenseless hatchlings behind in that crumbling ruin. His self-deprecating rage is abruptly staunched as Alpha sharply snaps.

"All intact, but _all_ extinguished! We thoroughly inspected and scanned each of them. The best we can determine is that they were put in modified stasis several thousand vorns ago. Scans and sonar dictated that with the varying levels of deterioration they perished one after the other over a long period. We surmised the first passed around 797 vorns ago, the second 454 vorns ago and the last more recently at approximately 106 vorns passed. The energon in their pods long used up, the nutrient gel putrefied, useless. Optimus must be blessed by the Allspark to have survived at all, one can only guess at what could have triggered his birth after so long... The attendant was lying curled around and physically holding the 4 pods, his frame crudely wired directly into them… We suspect this mech moved the 4 to protect them from whoever attacked the nursery, nurturing and supporting them with his own energon, systems and spark in an attempt to save them… we need to perform more tests, but it seems he lived quite some time before his spark finally gave out…"

Turning away from the visibly shaken dark mech, the scholar tries to regain his composure as images of the remains of corroded and crushed hatchlings and the mangled mech corpses assaults his mind. Even thinking about the intact hatchlings, curled up peacefully within their pods embraced so tenderly in the dead mech's arms, sends shuddering waves of anguish and regret at the loss. He had wondered briefly if they too had predetermined names like Optimus written within their chest plates. Sonar showed they had similar frames and external markings, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to open the cloudy grey pods and disturb their eternal sleep.

Alpha Trion jolts at the abrupt push of a strong energy field against his own carrying warmth, concern and comfort, thin arms wrapping around the middle of his thigh. Looking down he finds Optimus staring up at him in all concerned innocence.

The colourful mech is upset and hurting, but he can't see what's causing him pain. Optimus knows the conversation involves him and childishly wonders if he did something wrong. Seeing the mech smile down at him, their long angular features softening, violet optics glowing warmly he trills happily.

"A noble sacrifice indeed, but in the end a sacrifice not wasted."

Alpha murmurs, long tapered fingers gently brushing the crest of the now exultant mechling hugging his leg. Hearing Ironhide shift he looks up at the bulky mech.

"So… why did this attendant mech just sit there til his spark extinguished. Why didn't he try get out with the remainin' hatchlin's? Ya said he lived for vorns."

Slipping back into his cool, professional veneer, the emerald mech meets the black warrior's optics with an even stare.

"To be honest Ironhide, at this point in time we truly have not done enough exploration or investigation into this matter for me to give you a more conclusive answer. I can only offer my own speculations based on first hand evidence. For a start it seems the collapse of the main structure of the nursery may have occurred around the same time or shortly there after the battle going by damage and degradation of structures and the corpses. Preliminary examinations of the attendant show he suffered debilitating damage to the right hip juncture and joint at these points with severed secondary and primary spinal structures at the lower thoracic level."

The scholar motions to the points on his own body demonstrating where injuries were found on the long dead attendant.

"I highly doubt he could stand let alone walk without assistance. There was also little evidence of self repair occurring outside of cut lines clamping off, despite strong indicators he lived a considerably long time after the injuries were incurred."

Scooting back over to his guardian Optimus watched him pensively as he shifted, mechanisms linked to his currently recessed cannons twitching and clicking.

"So they just left him and the hatchlin's to die? Didn't even try to find them?"

Ironhide snaps with a nasty growl, startling Optimus causing him to stumble back from his guardian's suddenly volatile energy flare. He didn't care if this happened long before his spark was even a glint in the Allspark leaving anyone, especially innocent hatchlings, to die like that made his spark pulse violently within its casing.

"Please calm yourself Ironhide. You are upsetting Optimus… I cannot give you a proper answer to that. Not at this time. He was trapped, unable to move and potentially siphoning off so much of his own energy to support the 4 pods that he may have spent a good portion of time in low level stasis lock. This means he probably could not communicate his situation or call for help. Logically others may have presumed him and all the hatchlings dead. For all we know other circumstances may have been at play here. It is too soon to tell. Many orns, potentially full cycles may be needed before truly conclusive answers can be found."

Raking a hand over his blunt face plates Ironhide forced his ire down, pushing a calming pulse through his field and willing his spark to settle. Kneeling, he calmly reaches out fingers flicking in a gesture for Optimus to come to him. The mechling hesitates a moment, controlling his energy field enough to expand out and test that of his guardian's. Finding it back to normal, the frightening rage gone, he wastes no time running to him. Scooping the small frame up he lifts the mechling to sit on his shoulder keeping one hand firmly on his long legs incase he should slip. Slowly the large mech begins to voice something that has been plaguing his CPU since Optimus first spoke only 4 orns ago.

"Sorry bitlet… It makes sense now… I think…"

"What does?"

Alpha prompts, watching the mech closely as various emotions flit across his face plates.

"About 4 orns ago, when Optimus finally spoke for the first time… he didn't just say one word… he got out a whole sentence. I was checkin' on him after a bad recharge when I went to go he… he roughly said 'Ironhide, please don't fade away too.' Scared the spark outta me the way he said it, but I think I understand now… he couldn't remember… could he?"

Ironhide looked to the little scholar silently pleading with him. Alpha Trion just stares back blankly, body pulled rigid, his CPU threatening to stall as the implications and logical denials screaming through his mind. It kept cycling over and over, he was too young, he couldn't possibly remember, he couldn't possibly have seen anything in the darkness. He just couldn't.

"I… I honestly do not know what to say to that. It's possible he may have been aware, but I do not… I'm sorry I do not know what to say."

Nodding slowly, Ironhide took some solace in the fact after he assured his charge he wasn't going anywhere the mechling had said nothing more on the matter, going back to is quiet yet happy self. Giving himself a mental shake he diverts his processor onto other matters.

"Right, so any of this stuff you found in the excavation site gonna affect us? I mean, would the counsel be second guessin' his placement with me now all this has come up?"

Taking the sudden change of topics for what it was with no small amount of relief, Alpha Trion switches mental gears.

"No I don't believe so. At this point their interest lies more in the discoveries within the ruins than Optimus himself. They have expressed a wish for him to have as normal a life as can be afforded considering he is a full vorn younger than the most recent generation. They only stipulation was that his progress be _discreetly_ monitored. They have also approved my application to be his tutor until they find him sufficiently developed to begin general schooling."

Ironhide snorts at the emphasis on the word _discreet_.

"And I'm guessin' you're the one that's gonna be doin' this monitoring right?"

"Affirmative."

So he's gonna be watched from now on. Fine by him, not a lot he could do against it anyway. Turning, he gestures for the small scholar to walk with him. Optimus clicks in glee as the move off. His new, much higher vantage point looking over his guardian's helm gives him a much better view of the spires as they move back towards the main entrance. He knows the discussion was about him yet again, but he's finding the bright lights and strange sounds much more interesting.

"Right, this tutorin' thing, when's that gonna start?"

"I believe 35 orns of age will be sufficient to begin basic tutoring. He has demonstrated that he is attentive, basely aware of the moods of others and becoming well adjusted. I would advise taking him out more often, socializing with others in new environments. He needs to improve his confidence and self control around unfamiliar mechs. Interaction with new environments full of visual, auditory and physical stimuli is also recommended to help stimulate his processor functions and synaptic connections."

A barely there smirk sneaks its way onto the warriors features as he mulls over the lack of terms concerning this 'socializing' with strangers and the need to 'stimulate' Optimus' processor. Large fingers twitch and hidden parts within his large forearm shift as he thinks. He slyly wonders how far he can get away with twisting this mech's innocent advice. Appearing overly benign Ironhide smugly drawls;

"Well, already had a few mechs at the academy askin' about seein' Optimus. He'll get to meet plenty of new mechs and I got an idea for an activity that will help stimulate his CPU, visual and auditory like."

The elder scholar begins to nod in agreement, before suspicion creeps in. Spotting the mech's poorly hidden devious smirk, he snaps to attention.

"Do not even think about taking him to the firing range Ironhide! The last thing we need is a gun obsessed miniature version of you tottering around."

Alpha Trion hisses, energy field betraying his lack of true anger at the mech's stealthy attempt to twist his advice and test him. Unafraid of the much larger and stronger mech's reaction, he sharply jabs covering of one of the massive cannons to emphasis his point. Ironhide grins smugly at the feisty little mech. Nice to see overly formal little scholar has a sense of humor.

Looking at Optimus comfortably perched on his guardian's broad shoulder, completely immersed in watching the light play on the passing spires, both mechs simultaneously concocting images of the shy little mechling running around with guns a big as he is. Locking optics, both clearly having come to the same ludicrous conclusion, they burst out laughing. Any pensive tension left in the air between the two instantly evaporating.

Startled by the sudden raucous laughter Optimus looks from Ironhide to Alpha Trion as they both walk side by side, breaking into peels of laughter ever time they look at him. The mechling completely lost and confused as to why they suddenly find him so funny.

TBC

* * *

_The idea they had in the RoTF 09 movie of TF's being on earth before was ok… just the time period really threw me, between when all that happened to when the Allspark arrived on earth. Far too short a period for them to forget their origins and what came before them with the Primes. _


End file.
